


Blue

by Geromy



Series: Mcreyes Winter Break 2018 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 00:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13352364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geromy/pseuds/Geromy
Summary: A mission failed, in the middle of the north Atlantic. SEP might help Gabe arrive safely at the Blackwatch sub, but for McCree, it's a gamble.McReyes Winter Break 2018 -> Day five: Shiver





	Blue

Two hands, pressed against his face. His gorgeous, perfect face, covered in filth, slick with sweat, another man’s blood drying into his sideburns. Gabriel held onto McCree, cupping his cheeks, pulling him back, demanding his attention.

“ _ Jump. _ ” 

He looked horrified. And who could blame him? They were a hundred feet above freezing water. 

But this mission was failed. They’d both taken bullets, and at this point, stuck on a ship with a hundred and one weapon traffickers and a huge stock of smuggled ammo? They would just be playing glorified cat and mouse.

McCree didn’t answer. And he didn’t move.

“Trust me, and jump. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay, but I need you to jump.” 

He wasn’t budging. Paralyzed, apparently. When Gabriel heard shouting behind him in a language he didn’t understand, he made the executive decision. Moved his hands from McCree’s face to his hips, and tossing him over the railing. He turned around, quickly, firing a shot directly into the strangers face, his head bursting open. A feeling not unlike adrenaline shot through him. A surge of energy.

Gabe followed into the water. It was terrifying, watching the water hurtle towards him. McCree hadn’t surfaced, and he was panicking. But they were dead either way. 

The water hit him like needles. Definitely below freezing. He could feel his organs panicking, and coming down from their panic. He might be enhanced, but McCree sure as hell wasn’t. McCree. Where was he?

He kicked himself to the surface, pulling in a breath of air and beginning to search, breaks in the water just barely visible under the moonlight. He caught sight of McCree finally, just a few feet away, and began to breaststroke over to him.

He was screaming. Gasping for breath but pulling in no air, his lungs no doubt stalling and failing on him with the cold. Gabe took his head in his hands again. Held his gaze, until he calmed down enough to listen. His lips were already blue. They needed to get a move on.

“There’s a sub right below us. We need to get to it. Do you remember what I gave you for this job?”

McCree didn’t respond at first. Ice was crystallizing in his hair.

“I need you to talk to me, McCree. I’m going to keep you alive but you need to meet me halfway. What did I give you.” 

“P-Paddle,” McCree choked, a quake shooting through him. “The paddleboard.” 

“With propellers, and oxygen, and lights. Get on it, and let’s go.” 

McCree nodded, too many times as his body shook. He managed to pull an arm out of the water to get the paddleboard off of his back. Gabe did the same, strapping it to his chest, pulling up the mouth piece and getting it situated between his teeth. Oxygen was already filling his lungs, so he needed to get McCree moving, and fast. These tanks were minimal. There was no time to waste.

He helped him with his straps. Pulled the mouthpiece out and held it up, letting McCree lean forward to chomp down on it. Then, he dove. 

He was thankful McCree managed to make it under the water. He turned on the light once he was properly facing down toward the ocean floor, getting the propellers moving soon after. He took McCree’s hand to drag him along until he got his own up and running, and then he lead the way.

The sub wasn’t too deep, thankfully. Wouldn’t be much use to them if it was, if the water pressure became too much for people to reach. 

Gabriel led them both to the open door on the side, finding the lever to close it behind them so the airlock could drain. 

The time it took was agonizing, and he was trying so hard not to panic. He shut off their lights and their propellers, leaving the oxygen running until the air in the room reached their heads. He pulled his mouth piece out as soon as he could. How many more feet were there.

“You still with me, McCree?” He shouted, hoping the worry wasn’t too obvious in his tone. The water level reached their waists and Gabe started to unstrap McCree’s board, throwing it to the side carelessly. He hadn’t bothered to get started on his, his hands holding on to McCree’s face, his shoulders, his neck. His pulse was faint, his skin paler than he’d ever seen it. And blue. So,  _ so _ blue.

Finally, the water was drained, and the door to the sub opened. The ship began to power on as Gabriel pulled McCree back into it. Threw off McCree’s hat and tore off his own. Where the hell was the heat in this place.

“We made it,” he said aloud, even though he wasn’t getting any answers. “We’re going to be okay now.” 

Frustration stalled him as he attempted to get McCree undressed, realizing his own paddleboard was getting in the way. He ripped off the straps, letting the piece of equipment fall to the floor and no doubt shatter. 

He needed to call for a pickup, update Morrison on what was going on. But all he could focus on was McCree, slowly freezing to death in front of him. His whole body was shuddering uncontrollably. So long as he still felt cold, he still had a good chance of surviving. It wasn’t until he started burning up that he was a goner. Of course this ship had to be sailing the damn northern Atlantic. Couldn’t be smuggling weapons through the Caribbean. 

He managed to pry McCree’s armor off of him, unceremoniously throwing it to the floor. One of his sleeves was bloodsoaked from where a bullet had grazed him. Nothing serious, he could stitch it up later. For now, he tore his shirt in two at the front to pull it off of him, tearing a strip off with his teeth and tying it over the wound. 

“You’re doing good, just stay with me.” 

He finally located a radiator as his own armor fell to the floor, pulling off both his shirt and hoodie in one go. On the way over he tugged a blanket from a shelf of emergency supplies, a first aid kit clattering to the floor. He pressed their chests together as he backed McCree up to the radiator, gathering his shaking form into his arms and slowly easing them both to the floor. “I’m gonna get you a medal when we get back. You’ll get the whole shebang, ceremony and all. Don’t care if I have to pay for it myself.” 

He kept McCree under his arm as he pulled off his boots, throwing them across the room. He did the same with his socks, taking a moment to carefully massage his toes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t lose any.

He was still shaking. Still unresponsive. And Gabriel was scared. More scared than he’d ever been. McCree’s hair was ice, and all Gabriel could do was lean his head against it, hoping to God his breath could thaw it out.

It took a change in position to get McCree’s pants and boxers off, propping him against the wall so Gabriel could use both hands. The room was finally starting to feel warm. He got up on his knees to pull his own pants down, falling back to sit to get them all the way off. He had a bullet wound somewhere, too, he thought, but it might have taken care of itself by now. For now, he pulled McCree against him again. Tangled up their legs, wrapped the blanket around them both. 

And all he could do was wait. He kept switching between rubbing McCree’s arms and massaging life and circulation back into his fingers and toes. And he kept talking, no matter how long he continued not to answer.

“You did great today,” he said softly, feeling his esophagus tightening in his chest. “I was so proud of you. You were made for Blackwatch. Blackwatch was made for you. I was made for you.” 

McCree was still silent. His eyes had fallen closed, but at least, his constant shiver had started to relax into an occasional shake. Gabriel checked his pulse periodically, and almost lost his wits about him when he felt it getting stronger. 

Gabriel watched a few hours go by, and let McCree sleep. Even if he hadn’t called for a pickup, Jack could see the sub being activated and draw his own conclusions. The sub was now a healthy room temperature, a few degrees warmer by the radiator, and even warmer with their now-dry bodies pressed together under the blanket. 

It looked like his work had paid off- no discoloration in any of his toes or fingers. Even his face had gone back to normal, skin back to brown and lips back to pink.

There’d be dry clothes in here somewhere for them to put on. Food, too, if he looked. Freeze dried astronaut food, but still food. He had an entire laundry list of things he needed to do. But he didn’t move. Simply laid back against the wall with McCree pulled against him, checking his pulse, panicking every time he shivered again, and listening carefully to his soft breathing. 

He was beginning to fall asleep too when he finally felt McCree stir in his arms, inhaling sharply as he awoke, but staying silent as he observed his current situation. Gabriel wanted to kiss him. Kiss him and hold him so tight he couldn’t breathe, apologize to him for not doing better and telling him how happy he was that they were both alive. But the relief was doing nothing but overwhelming him, eyes aching as he tried not to let out any tears, throat clenched, heart stinging. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” McCree said. Finally. He finally spoke. Quiet and hoarse, but it was his voice. Gabriel bit back a sob, throat cracking. McCree leaned back just slightly. As much as he could, with the vice grip he was currently being held in. “This is kinda hot, huh? Never thought I’d get you naked.”

Gabe’s sob escaped through a laugh, a hand moving quick to smack McCree upside the head. 

“Jackass,” he mumbled, not able to help himself from pressing his face against McCree’s hair, breathing it in and giving his temple a very stern kiss. “I thought you were a goner.” 

As McCree threw the blanket off of his shoulder, he seemed suspiciously… Nonchalant. It made anxiety swirl in Gabe’s stomach. But, he loosened his grip, letting McCree wobble his way up onto his feet, a hand over his groin as he made his way to his hat that Gabe had discarded to hold in front of his genitals instead. 

“I barely remember what happened,” he mused, heading to the shelf Gabriel had found the blanket on. He started rummaging through it, finding a pair of sweat pants and pulling them on. “You threw me overboard and. The rest is hazy.” 

He wasn’t even scared. He was back on his mission like none of it had happened. Like he hadn’t been one more second away from death. Gabe watched him find the hoodie to go with his sweats, finding a case of protein bars and pulling a few out. 

As Gabriel stood, he felt… Angry. He wrapped the blanket around his waist like a towel, massaging his temples with his fingers in frustration. He stepped closer to McCree. Watched him notice Gabe was up, protein bar hanging out of his mouth, turning to the shelving again and finding the other sweat suit. He tossed it over, but Gabriel let it hit the floor. McCree pulled the bar out of his mouth to speak.

“What’s the matter, Boss?”

_ Fuck _ , he wanted to cry.

“Don’t you realize that you almost died?” He asked, his own vitriol surprising him. It came out of his mouth like poison. “I felt your heartbeat almost reach zero beats per minute. You’re acting like this is just. Any other mission failed.” 

“Jesus, Reyes,” McCree replied breathlessly, dragging a hand through his hair. “What d’ya want me to say? Assets die. Ramirez died three weeks ago an’ you barely even reacted.”

“You’re not Ramirez,” Gabriel snapped, realizing too late what he was implying. Might as well roll with it, he figured, finally,  _ finally _ letting himself break down. He hid his face behind his forearm as his tears started spilling over, shoulders wracking with silent sobs. “You are so much more than an asset.” 

He didn’t want to imagine the expression on McCree’s face right about now. Watching his commander cry over one mission gone wrong, standing butt naked save for a blanket. 

When there was no reply, he continued.

“I was so scared I was going to lose you. I can’t even- remember my life without you in i-”

He was cut short when McCree pulled him into his arms. His sweat suit was surprisingly soft, though not as soft as McCree’s gentle, calming strokes up and down his back and his practically silent, gentle shushing. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Gabriel felt him return the kiss on the temple from earlier. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m sorry you had to hurt like that.” 

A small laugh left Gabe before he could stop it, dragging his arms down his face to pick up the tears before McCree could actually see them. Now it was Gabe’s turn to shiver, acutely aware of how naked he was against McCree’s clothes. 

He let McCree step away from him, pulling the other sweatshirt over his head for him. Gabe pulled his arms into the sleeves, and took the pants, too. He turned around to pull them on, letting the blanket fall to his feet.

Once he was dressed he pulled back his composure, turning toward the command area. It was layered in dust from lack of use, but he found the comms, slipping the headset on his head. 

He’d never been so happy to hear Morrison’s voice. Mission failed, minor injuries. Had food and water, could wait until the ship had cleared a safe radius before pickup. 

When he finished his call McCree had found sneakers, handing a pair to Gabe.

“Still feels weird goin’ commando, but least now we don’t gotta walk on this floor.” 

Gabriel nodded in agreement, unable to respond as his mind was ticking. He sat on the control desk to pull on the shoes. “Morrison can’t get a pick-up to us for a few hours. Can’t risk the ship seeing it and shooting it down. We should be safe here, we’ve got food and water. And I need to stitch up that wound on your arm.” 

McCree glanced at the bump under his sweater on his upper arm. 

“Wait, didn’t you get shot, too?” 

He did, but the wound was already healed. Gabriel wasn’t sure how he should answer. He could tell McCree the truth, the results of Moira’s experiments. He’d managed to get control of the smoking in her rehabilitation, but taking lifeforce from people, whatever she had done there. That was a little harder to explain. And impossible to control. Every shot he fired, every life he took, he could feel himself getting stronger, his stamina coming back to him, his pain subsiding. 

Sometimes, it scared him. Like one day, he would lose himself in the power.

“I was mistaken,” he decided on, feeling guilt swirl in his stomach. He walked past McCree to the first aid kit that had spilled, picking it up piece by piece and throwing it all back in the tin. McCree followed him to the table in the back corner, pulling his hoodie off up over his head as Gabriel sat down and started readying a needle and gauze. 

McCree sat next to him, putting his arm up on the table. And after removing the torn cloth from his arm, bloodied and crusty, he got to work.

It was silent for awhile, aside from McCree’s seething and hissing and careful, controlled breathing. It was kind of fucked to have to do with with no freezing, but what needed to be done, needed to be done. 

Eventually though he spoke.

“So what am I?” He asked.

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel answered, glancing up from his work for only a flash.

“You said I was more than an asset. So what does that make me?” 

Gabe felt himself flush. If he didn’t currently have a needle in this guys arm, he might have smacked him again. But as it was. There’d be no better time to just be honest. Who knows if next time McCree almost died, he’d make another comeback.

“I care about you,” he answered simply, pulling another stitch tight. “I  _ look after  _ everyone, keeping them alive best I can, leading them, as my team. But you’re. Different.” 

McCree stayed completely still, as if Gabriel taking his guard down like this could startle, like a doe.

“Different how?” 

He finished his last stitch, admiring his handiwork as he reached for gauze. 

“I can’t imagine being without you. I don’t remember what my life was like before we found you. And when I imagine this war being over, retiring to some condo in New York City and adopting a shih tzu, I want you to be there with me.” 

McCree still didn’t move besides the slightest of turn to his head. Gabriel drew in a breath, and sighed.

“I might be in love with you. I don’t know who I’d be if you died.” 

He felt McCree stiffen under his hands as he pressed gauze on his wound, opening a bandage with his teeth to seal it all in. As soon as he finished he sat back, starting to pile the supplies back into the first aid box. 

He stopped when McCree took his hand. When he turned, McCree was looking right at him, cheeks rosy.  _ God, _ that was a beautiful sight after watching him almost die while blue. He was so beautiful, and  _ so _ alive.

But he didn’t say anything. He scooted closer on the bench, pulled Gabriel closer by the hand, and kissed him. So soft he might have not even felt it. His lips were still cold. It filled his chest with warmth though, his heart leaping in a way he’d never felt before. 

McCree chuckled when he pulled away, both of Gabe’s hands moving quickly to his face to hold it still, stroking his cheeks carefully with his thumbs. McCree put his hands over Gabe’s.

“No way I’m gonna croak before you do, Gabriel.” 

He couldn’t even concentrate on the crack at his age, his first name leaving McCree’s mouth in such a sweet, indulgent way it felt taboo to hear it. 

“I’m not going to let you. You’re stuck with me.” He hesitated as McCree tapped their foreheads together. “Jesse.” 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

The sound of the comms ringing woke Gabriel up. His entire face was pressed into Jesse’s chest. He found himself shivering, opening his eyes to see that Jesse had taken all the blankets while they slept. He supposed he could forgive that, though. He probably needed them more anyway.

Morrison let him know their pickup was above them, a ladder ready. All Gabriel had to do was surface far enough to get the hatch above water.

“Jesse,” he said quietly, rolling his way out from under his arm to sit up, leaning back over him to press a kiss to his lips. “It’s time to go home.” 

He just barely woke up, his eyes mere slits as he glanced up. He did smile though, taking in a breath, rolling onto his back, rubbing his hands into his eyes to wipe away the sleep. 

Gabe couldn’t resist. He leaned toward him one more time, giving him one more kiss before he finally walked away and made his way to the control desk, starting the ascent toward the surface. Jesse finally got off the cot and picked up his sweater again, pulling it over his head. 

Once they were surfaced, they climbed the ladder and opened the hatch. A couple agents were already ready at the entrance, climbing in as soon as Gabe and Jesse were out, probably to collect their belongings and the paddleboards. (Even though one of them was definitely broken from being thrown on the floor.)

Jesse seemed to stiffen when he saw the water. Gabe moved a protective arm around his waist, holding him close as they grabbed onto the rope ladder waiting for them, getting pulled up into the chopper above.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe. Promise I won’t push you in this time.” 

Jesse laughed, letting his head lull onto Gabriel’s shoulder.

“I trust you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter! https://twitter.com/stakesreyesd


End file.
